


Let's turn these endings into new beginnings

by SilentNorth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Black Jackals, Day 6: Beginnings and Endings, Haikyuu Week 2020, M/M, Post-Graduation, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26737387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentNorth/pseuds/SilentNorth
Summary: Atsumu is sick of seeing his peers waste their potential. First Osamu, and now Sakusa? But he doesn't care if they want to screw up their futures. He's going pro, and screw them for leaving volleyball behind, for leaving him behind. In the end, he's the one that'll come out on top.He doesn't care what they do. Not really.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 160
Collections: Tumblr Haikyuu!! Week 2020





	Let's turn these endings into new beginnings

Miya Atsumu was used to being alone. Sure—he had friends. How much those friends liked him was up for debate, but he had them. He had teammates, too. Or, two days ago he’d had them. Technically, he was a volleyball player without a team now. Graduation tends to knock people down a couple pegs. Goodbye seniority. Goodbye teammates.

Because the thing Atsumu wasn’t used to was running alone.

The Inarizaki team ran with everyone together. Sometimes that meant barfy first years, but even when they started splitting up near the midway point, most of the team paired up. There was no point if no one was there to push you.

If he came back to practice with too much energy, someone was always waiting to whip him into shape the second he became too much. Nobody was as efficient as Kita had been last year, and Atsumu always prayed it wasn’t the coach.

It’d only been a week since practices stopped—three days since graduation—but running alone sucked. He came home sweaty and tired and pissed off, not even looking at his phone to know how bad his time was. And still, his blood thrummed with the adrenaline of too much energy left over.

“Just once,” he panted, coming into the kitchen. “I’m beggin’ ya.”

Osamu didn’t even bother turning around. “And get yer hopes up? No way.”

Atsumu had been pouting all week, but—despite being stubborn enough to keep it up until Osamu moved out at the end of April—he was starting to think it wasn’t working.

“When’s dinner?”

And Osamu sighed, already picking up on the storm cloud that was blustering in over Atsumu’s mood. “Like thirty minutes?” he sighed. “Think you can wait that long?”

Atsumu huffed and didn’t stomp down the hall to their bedroom, but he did slam the door behind him.

It wasn’t fair. Plenty of their peers graduating this year were continuing with volleyball, especially looking at all of the teams they’d played against in nationals. There were too many damn good players out there off to do great things. Hell, Atsumu was one of them. He’d been doing the research since the second the season ended and found he suddenly didn’t have enough volleyball to cram into the endless hours of every day.

He’d be training this month, but when April ended, he had a whole list of tryouts to track down.

It was exciting.

If only he didn’t share the house with the one guy in their year who had decidedly quit volleyball for good.

It frustrated him to no end, especially when he came back with a lame running time that he knew he could beat if he just had someone running beside him, pushing him to go faster.

Atsumu didn’t fully resent Osamu. It had come and gone in waves. The two of them hadn’t fought this much since—well—he couldn’t say. It was driving their parents crazy for sure, but not as much as Atsumu.

What a waste. All that potential, all those years spent on volleyball, down the drain.

Of course, he didn’t really think that. He was just being selfish, but he only realized that when the waves receded—like on graduation day when he’d nearly teared up hugging Osamu and telling him all the great things he’d achieve.

_Yer restaurant’s gonna be a household name one o’ these days!_

And Osamu almost fought him on the spot out of embarrassment, but it was the unhinged feeling of relief that held them both back. They had just come off a three-day, no talking strike, and it was just nice to be proud of each other again.

So, Atsumu tried not to let himself get worked up about it again. There was only a month left. Then, Osamu would be gone, and Atsumu would be staring down a hundred paths leading to the future alone. At the end of all of them, volleyball.

Where would he end up? Would the tryouts go okay? What team would take him? What division? If he had multiple offers, how would he choose? Would he just know based on instinct?

Beyond high school, was he really good enough?

Because he knew there was no way that volleyball would ever look the same way again. High school was over, so were high school tournaments, high school practices, high school teams. He'd known, once he graduated, things would start changing rapidly. He'd known that the second Osamu admitted in their second year that he wasn't pursuing volleyball after high school.

And so many of their teammates and rivals would be doing the same. As far as Atsumu knew, Suna was the only one besides him looking at tryouts this summer.

And Atsumu wasn't about to call him up to talk volleyball. Suna was more interested in talking to Osamu than him anyway. What a stupid turn of events.

Atsumu had seen plenty of the guys on social media talking about their plans. It was a no-brainer that nearly everyone from the All-Japan Youth Training Camp was getting pumped for tryouts and aiming high. The expectations that Atsumu was in the same boat was simultaneously crushing and boosting his confidence all at once.

He'd seen the most from Hoshiumi, who was very intense, all caps. Then that libero from Itachiyama one post here and there. 

Atsumu had done exactly this one year ago, lying in bed, scrolling through social media, switching from one to the next. He remembered the same going down with Fukurodani’s Bokuto and Shiratorizawa's Ushiwaka and even Aran. Now, instead of that anticipation gnawing at his stomach, just waiting for it to be his time, now there was only a sinking feeling.

Once tryouts started, it'd go away. He'd be too busy to worry about the empty bed on the other side of the room. It'd all work out. He'd sign a contract with a good team.

He'd seen a few other updates from the players he'd met at the training camp, but there was one he didn't see no matter which site he checked.

A certain ace was nowhere to be found, one of the top three aces in the country.

Of course, Sakusa Kiyoomi would be elusive on social media, and as soon as he popped into Atsumu's head, it was hard to get him out. That was simply because it frustrated Atsumu to no end that he couldn’t find a simple answer as to what the arguably best ace in the country was doing after graduation. He knew more about what Hinata Shouyou was doing with his life right now than Sakusa, and Hinata wasn’t even graduating.

Atsumu started his search. Nothing on Twitter. Nothing on Instagram either. Though it was a longshot, Atsumu descended to Facebook for a last-ditch effort.

What he found looked like a desecrated grave. Maybe at one point there had been posts made, pictures updated, but now it looked like all of that had been deleted. All that remained was a profile picture of a volleyball on a gym floor. Not artfully shot, just like Sakusa had pulled out his phone, aimed it at the ground, and took the picture.

So how did Atsumu know this was the right Sakusa Kiyoomi? From what little he could see of the gym, he knew for sure. It was the same one from their training camp. The same flooring at the Ajinomoto National Training Center. How sentimental of Sakusa.

Still, there were no clues as to his future, though Atsumu was certain that someone like Sakusa would end up on a good team. But, not one to abandon his curiosity, Atsumu switched to his contacts. If Sakusa wasn't announcing his plans to the world like everyone else, then Atsumu would just have to find out for himself.

Besides, he still had twenty minutes to kill before dinner.

"How did you get this number?"

Even after a week of feeling completely cut off from the volleyball world he'd once known, the thrill of excitement that rushed through him at the sound of Sakusa's voice still caught him off guard. It made him feel like he should be gearing up for an intense match.

"Omi-kun," he greeted sweetly. "If ya knew it was me, that meant you had my number, too."

"I got it from Komori as a precaution so I could block you if I needed to."

"I'm flattered yer givin' me a chance before ya decide to block me then."

"I'm hanging up."

Atsumu flung himself upward into a sitting position. "No, don't do that," he said, and paused a moment, waiting for the line to go dead. It didn't. He sighed. "Look, I just called to see what yer doin' now that we've graduated."

"Itachiyama doesn't graduate until next week."

"My bad. I'll have to call you next week to offer my congratulations."

He heard Sakusa sigh through the phone.

"Please don't."

"All I'm sayin' is everyone's postin' their plans. In a couple months, I'm sure my feed'll be full of what team they're all on," Atsumu said all while wondering if he'd be posting something that would leave everyone in awe, living up to the high school legacy he was leaving behind, separate from being part of the Miya Twins set. "Bet yer aiming for V.League, ain’tcha. Maybe…Division One?"

"I'm not trying out for any professional teams, Miya," Sakusa said. "I'm going to university."

For a frustrating moment, Atsumu's heart stopped. "What."

"I've been in prep classes, and I've got a scholarship to play volleyball at the collegiate level for now."

"But yer, like, one of the top three aces," Atsumu sputtered. "In the _country_. And yer givin' that up for a degree? That's a waste."

Sakusa was silent for a moment. "I don't think a degree is a waste," he eventually said. "Nobody can play volleyball forever."

"Yeah, well, I'm not givin' it up for a second."

"Tch. I'm still playing volleyball." Sakusa's voice was becoming more forceful.

"Not up to your potential," Atsumu snapped back, and Sakusa didn't answer right away again. Atsumu realized he was glaring at the bedroom door. He was looking for a fight, but he wasn't going to find it here. Osamu had already said he was done trying to make Atsumu see sense with punching and kicking. And Sakusa wasn't even here.

"What's this really about, Miya?" he said. "What do you want? Is it because Osamu's done with volleyball?"

Atsumu physically reeled back from his phone. How dare Sakusa know that. How dare he use Osamu's name but not his. He didn't even know Osamu. It wasn't like he'd been to multiple training camps with him or hit his sets enough times that he stopped second-guessing them.

How dare he talk to Atsumu like they were friends, like Atsumu hadn't practically stolen his phone number instead of exchanging them like real friends did. Atsumu couldn't even say when the last time they spoke was.

"Yer all gonna be miserable, and I'm gonna laugh in all yer faces when you come crawlin' back sayin' _Atsumu, you were right_."

Sakusa made a disgusted noise. "You're so dramatic," he said. "And I told you, I'm still playing volleyball. You don't have to throw a tantrum just because it's not with you."

"That's not what this is about," Atsumu hissed. "You wouldn't get it. You haven't graduated yet."

He could practically feel Sakusa rolling his eyes in the ensuing silence.

"What," Atsumu snapped at the silence, but he could feel the anger fading quickly, and he wasn't sure if it was the run or his growling stomach that was causing it. "Everything's over. Is it so bad that I want to play volleyball with everyone again?"

"Ah, I see," Sakusa said, and Atsumu felt his face heat up at the words that had left his mouth. He was glad Sakusa couldn't see him. He was never so honest as that. "You've got such a big ego you think Division One won't be good enough for you. Newsflash, asshole, the pros are better than even you and your big ego. Get over yourself. You'll find a team interesting enough to maintain even your fleeting attention span."

A sigh of relief escaped him before he even realized it was coming, but then there was also a leftover feeling of disappointment. Sakusa hadn't taken his words too seriously. Which was a good thing. He'd only make fun of him if he realized how uncharacteristically sentimental he was being.

And was that such a bad thing? It was something that had been slowly dawning on Atsumu all week. Things would never be the same again, yet he clung desperately onto the idea of playing volleyball with everyone again. It was the one thing that had brought them all together. Now, it couldn't even do that.

"Yeah, whatever," he sighed. "We'll see. Congrats on graduating, Omi-kun. I'll prolly forget to call next week."

Sakusa huffed, a sound that could as easily be amusement as much as it sounded like annoyance. "Figured as much."

And the line went dead.

* * *

If anyone asked point blank, Atsumu had never had a crushed. He was just barely on good enough terms with his teammates to call some of them friends, but crushes? No way. He was too much of an asshole for anyone to even consider doing anything more than tolerate him.

That was excluding the Miya fangirls who, one, couldn’t tell them apart half the time and, two, didn’t know him in real life half as well as they pretended to know who they watched on the court.

And that was the way he liked it. He especially liked finding those he could irk the most, clinging on like an endearing leech. Like Kita. Atsumu had loved Kita. Getting under his skin was almost too easy, but then Kita would pivot just as Atsumu was getting too full of himself and come out on top, slapping Atsumu in the face with a lesson or a lecture or something, always knocking him down a peg or two.

There was Aran, too. Always there to handle him and Osamu, but rarely did he completely reach a breaking point. Sometimes that made the jokes get old too quickly. With Kita, there was always a stop and an end point and a point where he could pick it up again.

And there was just something that swelled in Atsumu's chest whenever he received a rare word of praise.

Then there was Sakusa. On the surface, he was almost comparable to Kita, but once Atsumu started playing with him more at training camps and seeing him at tournaments, he quickly realized that Sakusa was completely different.

He shouldered Atsumu's annoyances in silence or with sharp glances, and right when Kita would normally break out a lecture, Sakusa would push back, similarly in fashion to Atsumu's own brattiness. 

It wasn't so much like Aran's rollover and take it until he threatened to fight back attitude, saying something unawares to have Atsumu and Osamu cackling. It wasn't even like Kita's strictness for doing things properly, though there was a hint of that to Sakusa's character with his cleanliness.

No, it was almost like Sakusa fought back, butting heads when Kita would have circumnavigated the situation or Aran would have let him and Osamu navigate it themselves. Sakusa fought for the wheel.

But just like how Atsumu had wanted to impress Kita on the court, he found himself wanting to send tosses Sakusa wouldn't second-guess.

* * *

Four years shouldn't have passed as quickly as they did, but Atsumu guessed that time always passed quickly in hindsight. Within those four years, there had definitely been enough uncertainty, times in-between teams, a panic that he'd never play again during late nights in an apartment alone. But, of course, they were all worth it for the high points, and that happened every time he stepped foot on a court or got to set the perfect ball to one of his spikers.

It was probably the constant change that had made the years pass quicker than expected, switching teams between seasons, the various tryouts, learning new names and new faces and new preferences as to how each spiker liked the ball. Atsumu learned them all.

MSBY Black Jackals was the team he'd been on the longest so far, and it had been the most fun, but that might be due to the fact of how far into his career he'd come. He was better than ever, which meant all the players on this Division One team were equally as good. They won more than they lost, so of course Atsumu was having fun.

It was fun, playing familiar faces, some from high school, some from prior teams, some he'd just come to know from playing match after match these four years. It was just fun to play volleyball.

To his surprise, Fukurodani's former ace, Bokuto Koutarou, joined the team late in the previous year. Atsumu had been hesitant at first of this new spiker, but Bokuto had been in the top five aces in the country during their high school years. If he had improved just as much as anyone else had since high school, if he had dropped his ugly habit of crashing mentally during a game, then they would get along just fine.

And they did.

And there was no doubt in Atsumu’s mind. He was certainly living a much happier life than anyone who so much as thought about living a life without volleyball.

However suspect the smirks Suna and Osamu had thrown him were after his last match, Atsumu was still certain of that fact whenever he tossed a ball for a perfect kill, especially if it was a game-winning point.

He didn't need anything else but this. Nothing but volleyball could possibly make him this happy.

The Black Jackals were holding tryouts in a week, which meant a few more days of rigorous practice before they could relax a bit. The team captain had been promising a night out to properly celebrate their recent set of wins.

Atsumu hadn't been on too many teams long enough to watch their tryouts and meet new players. The staff was splitting it into two days, Tuesday and Thursday, so the team could still practice without too much of an interruption.

The thought of it made Atsumu excited. They were already a solid team, but add even just one or two more solid players and they'd be practically unstoppable.

And the second Tuesday's tryouts began, Atsumu knew good things were coming. In fact, it was like the stars were aligning and the gym practically brightened the second that bundle of sunshine stepped in.

The team was tucked away out of sight and out of the way up in the stands to watch.

Bokuto leaned down from the row behind. "Hey, Tsum-Tsum, is that—"

Atsumu grinned and leaned forward on his knees. "It certainly is."

Because pretty, tan Hinata Shouyou was back from Brazil.

Atsumu had known he was coming back to Japan from his social media posts, but returning to the Japan stage was all he'd posted about. Not a word about what teams he was looking at. And now, here he was.

It made sense that the universe was putting this all together. After all, Atsumu had promised to toss to Hinata one of these days.

"I thought this was gonna be a snooze fest with no practice, but things are looking up, huh?" Bokuto said.

"It'll make for one helluva season that's for sure."

Bokuto was probably going to say more—he was hard to stop once he got excited—but Meian leaned in to ask what they were talking about, and Bokuto was pulled away, plunging right into the glory days of high school, telling Meian and Barnes, who had leaned in to listen, about the freak quick.

Their entire game could be changed with someone like Hinata on their team. Not only did Hinata have great reflexes and speed and knowledge of the game, but Atsumu hadn't been keeping up with him since his own graduation. There was no limit to what he might have learned in Brazil.

Sure enough, Hinata was the best of the day's batch. Most of the others were recent high school grads or had just gotten out of collegiate level volleyball, but as always, Hinata brought a certain energy to the court that no one else could. In fact, after Bokuto's retellings of high school training camps and nationals, the rest of the Black Jackals were equally drawn in.

And Atsumu was amped as ever to get on the court and play a set.

"It's a shame all the excitement came on the first day," Atsumu said after tryouts were over and the coach had brought the players in for a talk. Atsumu stood and stretched his back. He was itching to get down there and catch up with Hinata.

"Guess we'll have to wait for Thursday," Bokuto said behind him.

"And just individual practices for the rest of the day?" Atsumu groaned, tugging at his hair. "I wanna play some volleyball already!"

A chuckled sounded behind them. "Is there no limit to your endless energy?" Barnes said good naturedly. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, and appreciate the break. We'll be back to regular practices in no time." He smiled down at the court. "And maybe with some new faces, too."

Atsumu was confident that Hinata's appearance would be the highlight of his week. Him joining the Black Jackals would be the highlight of his month, at least, but then one more familiar face popped up at Thursday's tryouts.

"No way," he said from his vantage point. shaking his head. "You gotta be shittin' me."

Bokuto was by his shoulder again, squinting down at the court. "Hey, hey, that's Sakusa, isn't it?”

"No way you could mistake that prickly expression for anyone else," Atsumu muttered.

"Hmm, whatever happened to him anyway?" Bokuto asked. "Haven't seen him since high school."

"Fucked off to university, that's what," Atsumu said.

"Ooh, college sports. Wonder if that'd be any fun. What do you think, Tsum-Tsum?"

"Nah—" he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms behind his head "—I was destined for the pros. I wouldn't waste my time on anything less."

A few of their teammates overheard and laughed, used to his arrogance. Bokuto wasn't deterred in the slightest.

"I don't think I'd be smart enough for that. Think about it, volleyball more intense than high school—that could be fun—but you have to be smart, right?" Bokuto shook his head. "Akaashi went to university, but he didn't do volleyball."

"Jugglin' the two would be a nightmare."

"Yeah," Bokuto sighed, but he was smiling. "Sakusa's not dumb like us. He could probably handle it just fine."

"Hey!" Atsumu reached behind him to whack Bokuto's knee. "Don't lump me in with you. I'm plenty smart."

"Sure, Tsum-Tsum!" Bokuto said, as agreeable as ever, but that didn't mean he agreed with Atsumu in any way. "You seem pretty pissed about seeing Sakusa though. I thought he was pretty good in high school."

"Psh, pretty good. Dude, he was one of the top three aces." Atsumu glanced over at Bokuto. "Weren't you in the top five?"

Bokuto pouted. "Now who's being rude?"

Atsumu turned his attention back to the tryouts where they were starting with spiking drills. When it was Sakusa's turn, his spike looked as nasty as ever with its wicked spin. Atsumu couldn't help but want to toss to him just for the satisfaction of conducting such a play and scoring a point off a kill like that. And the sound of the ball connecting with the court on the other side of the net was much louder than anyone else’s so far.

"Look," he said to Bokuto, "all I'm saying is he shouldn't have put off the V.Leagues for four years just for a degree." He gestured at the court.

He and Bokuto watched as Sakusa went up for another kill. Bokuto nodded sagely.

"I can't think of much I'd rather do than play with the Jackals."

Atsumu looked at him, and Bokuto looked back.

"Olympics," they both said and nodded at each other.

"But that's hard to beat," Bokuto continued.

A thought struck Atsumu and he smirked over at Bokuto. "What about Akaashi?"

Bokuto's face reddened. "I meant volleyball and, like, school. Akaashi's kinda in a different category, you know? You can't really compare the two."

Atsumu looked away in hopes that Bokuto would stop blushing like that. How embarrassing. "Right," he drawled. He'd been wanting to tease Bokuto, not start into a conversation on his love life.

But that was out of his control now because Bokuto was off to the races, plunging into a story about a late-night phone call with Akaashi—and did Atsumu know how much long-distance relationships sucked?—but Akaashi had just turned in a big update from one of his mangakas, who, did Atsumu know, was actually the Little Giant from way back in high school. Now he was a fairly well-known writer and Akaashi was his editor.

Bokuto hardly took a breath, and it made Atsumu breathless just listening to him go on, but it was endearing, in a way, how Bokuto spoke about Akaashi. How his eyes would drift off as he remembered the specifics of the conversation and how his lips would quirk and then stretch into a grin, but then they'd flatten out all serious-like whenever he rephrased something Akaashi had said.

It might've been even more endearing if the entire team knew the mere mention of Akaashi would set Bokuto off like this, but still. There were worse things than Bokuto talking his ear off.

On the court, the coach was running the hopefuls through receives. Spiking drills were always more entertaining to watch. Just about everyone could look good doing a spike as long as they had good form, but receives were important. You could tell immediately the depth of someone’s experience by the way they return a nasty spike to their setter. Sometimes it was easy to miss a spiker's form. They were only in the air for a split second. But with the receiving drill, the group started to split and the players with a real solid foundation stood apart from the rest.

And Sakusa—it'd always been mesmerizing to watch the kind of spin he could put on the ball when he spiked, but Atsumu had never just sat around and watched him receive. The balls he sent back toward the setter were as steady as his kills were disgusting. And damn, it wasn't fair how badly Atsumu wanted to play right then.

He wanted to step right under that ball and send it flying just for Sakusa to run up and smash it to the ground.

Seeing Hinata play the other day and now Sakusa, it made him antsy as hell. He wanted to march right down and shake their coach, tell him, are you crazy? Why're you still holding tryouts? Can't you see we've got the perfect team right here?

"So?" Bokuto prompted, breaking through Atsumu's runaway train of thought. "What do you think, Tsum-Tsum?"

"What do I think about what?"

"Sakusa. What do you think? I mean he's clearly good, but I've never played with him before," Bokuto said. "Let's see, we lost to Itachiyama in the qualifiers for nationals my third year, but that hardly mattered because we all ended up going anyway. I thought for sure we'd play them in the finals, but then they had that bad loss in the semi-finals. Didn't see that one coming."

Atsumu had to think all the way back. His second year at spring nationals on one hand had been a bummer. They were out in the second round, losing to Karasuno, but on the other hand, it'd been the first time he'd played against Hinata and Kageyama. Now that had been fun.

"But you went to the youth training camp with him, right?" Bokuto leaned in. "So?"

Humming with his chin perched on his fist, Atsumu surveyed the tryouts closely. Bokuto took that as permission to continue.

“I mean, I spent a few training camps with Hinata—even taught him a few tricks back in the day—“ he chuckled to himself “—so I know for a fact. Someone with your sets? And someone like Hinata on the team? We’d be pretty awesome, I’d say.”

Atsumu glanced back at him to catch the sharp glint in his eyes. A rare moment of serious anticipation for Bokuto. Usually Atsumu only saw it during a rough patch in a game. It was what made Bokuto such a dependable ace really.

But seeing it now was no surprise either. After all, Bokuto was just like the rest of them. He had that same hunger for volleyball. That same hunger to improve and be the best.

And with Sakusa, there was no doubt about it.

“He’s the real deal, Bo-kun,” Atsumu said, nodding down where everyone was taking a water break. He found Sakusa instantly, standing off to the side from the others, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before he took a drink. “Coach better grab him before someone else does.”

Another thirty minutes and tryouts ended. Atsumu was down from the stands, leaving the rest of the team discussing new potential teammates. Bokuto had stuck behind, too, repeating that he didn’t know Sakusa well enough to catch up like they had with Hinata the other day.

The funny thing about it was Atsumu really didn’t know Hinata as well as Sakusa. He’d only played a few matches with him and caught up with him outside of nationals.

But he’d done a whole week’s worth of training camp with Sakusa. Twice.

And who had he called after graduation, almost boiling over into full meltdown territory? Sakusa.

Still, there he was, hovering by the doors, feeling obligated to greet the guy despite the feeling that he knew him less than Hinata, when it should’ve been the other way around. And four years felt altogether too long and not long enough at the same time.

“Miya.”

Atsumu lifted his head, hands planted on his hips, and grinned with as much snark as he could put into it. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t—wait—don’t tell me. I’ll remember.”

A vein twitched above Sakusa’s left brow those his expression was bland as ever. “Miya.”

“Kidding, kidding, Omi-kun. Don’t look so upset.”

The teasing came easily, and to anyone else, Atsumu was the Black Jackals’ confident, a bit too smug setter. Because only Osamu and his spikers could ever tell when he was in a crisis, and even his spikers would have to hit a spike to really be able to tell.

“Ya looked pretty good out there, but I dunno. _Maybe_ we could squeeze ya into the roster. If it were up to me, I’d tweak yer form just a bit on yer landing, and ya hesitate just a second before you hit a spike. Are you still second-guessin’ yer setters? That’s a bad habit, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa had been perfect on the court, enough so that it had made Atsumu angry that he couldn’t be down there playing as well.

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Sakusa said stiffly, squinting at him, and Atsumu didn’t know if that look meant he was instead taking into consideration the thought of slapping him or verbally harassing him.

“I’m sure I’d give ya full marks if you hadn’t ducked off to university, but hey, they made you MVP, so I guess I can forgive ya for that.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes, but then he did something Atsumu wasn’t expecting. He held his hand out between them, one brow raised expectantly, the right one with the two moles over it. And Atsumu was nearly left gaping at the hand.

“It’s good to see you again, Miya.”

“Whoa now—” Atsumu reached out, froze, checked to make sure Sakusa wasn’t going to fake him out, before gripping his hand “—yer just full of surprises today, ain’tcha. What happened to yer germ thing?”

Sakusa squeezed his hand at the remark until it was almost painful before he released him. “Despite your imagined critiques, I’m not the same person I was in high school.”

Atsumu smirked at him, then turned, pushing open both of the gym doors. “Oh, don’t worry, Omi-kun. I saw it all on the court.” He looked back over his shoulder. “I look forward to bein’ yer setter. For real this time.”

Air escaped Sakusa’s nose in an unimpressed huff, but he followed and allowed Atsumu to walk him out. “Big talk, even for you. I’m not on the team yet.”

“Yet,” Atsumu repeated. “But you will. Coach would be an idiot not to take you.”

Sakusa only hummed in response.

“But me too. I’m a pretty spoiled setter, and I like getting what I want. I already have Bo-kun, but if I got to use you and Shouyou-kun in a game—well, I think it’d be a lot of fun. Don’t you, Omi-Omi?”

“You _are_ spoiled,” Sakusa agreed. “What, without Osamu around, has the world completely lost its balance?”

Atsumu laughed. “Oh man, he’s gonna be so jealous when he finds out. That’ll make him know for sure.”

“Know what?”

“That I am way happier than he could ever be without volleyball.” And Atsumu smiled and laughed to himself in the middle of the lobby. Sakusa stared, and maybe it was one part maniacal laughter, another part nerves, but as for the last part, he really was happy.

And Sakusa’s expression didn’t really change as he watched him. The sun came through the windows, making Atsumu’s hair even paler than Sakusa ever remembered it being in high school. He sighed.

“Maybe we can’t all change since high school. You’re still a weirdo.”

Atsumu cut off his laughter, but he was still smiling, eyebrows almost raised in disbelief at what Sakusa had said.

“But if I’m your spiker, I think it’s obvious.” Sakusa shrugged one shoulder. “No one could be happier without volleyball.”

Atsumu shook his head and continued toward the front doors. “Took ya four years to figure that out, huh?”

“I told you before—”

“I know, I know.” Atsumu tossed his arm up around Sakusa shoulders and squeezed. There was still afternoon practice ahead of him as well as an entirely new season, and Sakusa was letting Atsumu touch him. He was going to spike one of his sets, too. Soon. “This is the start of something beautiful, Omi-kun.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to get to a confession or something, but I write relationships so slowly, it probably would've been another 10K words for that haha! I still had so much fun writing this. Writing their dynamic is always entertaining for me.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudo and maybe a comment if you enjoyed it!
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://silentmarco.tumblr.com)


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